


Here For You

by mindabbles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Community: hp_crossgenfest, Cross-Generation Relationship, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindabbles/pseuds/mindabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus needs him. Teddy needs him. That’s why he’s still here – he’s not lying to himself, he just needs a place where he can sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here For You

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for running this lovely fest. I hope you enjoy this story. Thank you to e for the beta.

“Come on, mate,” says Ron softly. “Come and have a cup of tea and a bit of air.” 

“I’m fine,” mumbles Harry. 

Remus looks better today. There’s a bit of colour in his cheeks. Harry would swear that he’d moved his little finger an hour ago. 

“How long has it been since you left this room? How long has it been since you slept?” 

“I am fine,” Harry repeats, a little louder this time. 

“Leave him,” Harry hears Hermione’s voice, soft even in the silence of the hospital room. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can hear the people who care about him muttering that he’s “doing it again.” He knows they are worried about him, he knows that they want to see him begin to move on with his life, he knows that the healers can take care of Remus, but he can’t seem to make his feet leave the room. After all, if it weren’t for him, Remus would be dead. Of course, if it weren’t for him, Remus wouldn’t have nearly died and wouldn't have lost his wife and be faced with raising his son alone. He knows that Ron would offer a drink and Hermione would scold if they heard this line of thinking. On the other hand, Remus would know just what to say to snap Harry out of it, so Harry can sit here and have these thoughts, and wait for Remus to wake up. 

He doesn’t shut his eyes, even though they feel like someone’s rubbed ash into them. When he does, he sees the row of dead people he loves. He can easily slip back into the feeling of walking down that row just one more time to say farewell. He can easily feel the stutter and stop of his heart when he stopped to stare at Remus and Tonks and whisper a quiet goodbye, and a soft apology, and then when he saw Remus’ finger twitch and move, and then his hand clench into a fist. He can feel the panic he felt then that he must be seeing things rising again. He watches Remus’ chest for movement and see the breaths raise the blanket, shallow and slow, but definitely there. 

That was a week ago and Harry hasn’t left St. Mungo’s since he Apparated Remus’ unresponsive form here, hysterically shouting for a Healer. He can’t shake the feeling that if he doesn’t keep watch, this will all have been a dream and Remus will slip away to join Tonks, Fred, Dumbledore, Moody, and Sirius. He can’t. 

The hand on his shoulder registers seconds, minutes, after it lands. “Harry,” says Andromeda, squeezing his shoulder. “Harry, please come away for just a bit. I have tea and breakfast ready. You need to eat. Come and eat and then, please, sit with Teddy for just an hour so I can sleep. I haven't slept for over a week.” 

He looks up. Andromeda’s lovely face is creased with grief and exhaustion. She cradles in her arms a tiny yellow bundle with a shock of turquoise sticking up at the top. 

She should ask Molly. She should ask Ron and Hermione. Any number of people would be better qualified to watch a baby than him, especially right now. Teddy stirs and a tiny hand reaches up to Andromeda’s face. His own father, Remus, Sirius, and Teddy all swirl in his mind as a tight fist of grief grips his heart. So many are gone, but he’s still here, and Remus is still here, and Teddy’s here – tender and new and a chance for Harry to do something right that has nothing to do with fighting and everything to do with what’s worth fighting for. 

“Okay,” he says. “Yeah.”

**********

Harry walks through Remus’ house for about the tenth time. Dust has been cleared away, there’s food in the cupboards, clean sheets on the bed. Everything is ready. Molly has even put a bouquet of flowers from her garden on the kitchen table.

With all of the loss, it amazes Harry sometimes how people can find it in themselves to care about things like flowers to welcome home an ailing friend. 

“They’re here,” says Molly. She clasps her hands together at her chest. 

Harry stops himself from doing the same thing. It’s only Remus and he’s been out of danger for months, and Harry has seen him nearly every day since that last battle. 

Harry opens the door and Remus steps through, Arthur supporting him. 

“Let’s get you sitting,” says Arthur.

Remus looks as if he might pass out. He also looks as if a stiff wind might blow him over. Months in hospital have taken their toll, and despite his continued need for potions and healing, his Healer had pronounced yesterday that he’d reached the point where being in St. Mungo’s was only going to make him worse. 

Harry wonders what walking into the home he shared with Tonks and Teddy will do for him, when neither of them are there. 

“Arthur, Molly,” Remus says. His voice sounds like a creaky gate. “I am truly grateful. And I haven’t said, I am truly sorry.” 

“So am I, Remus. So am I,” says Arthur. He clears his throat to steady his voice. “And now, mate, it’s time to get you well.” 

Molly pats Remus on the hand and says, “There’s soup in the kitchen…and…oh, Remus, I _am_ sorry, too.” She dabs her face with a huge purple handkerchief. “And I am so happy to see you home. Anything you need. Anything at all.”

“Thanks,” says Remus. “I think, right now, I just need to rest.” 

“I’ll stay,” says Harry, as if someone asked who was willing. 

*

Remus sleeps. A lot. Harry supposes he should be getting on with it, but having no idea what “it” is makes it harder to, well, get on with it. 

“Hey.”

Harry starts and looks up to see Remus leaning against the doorframe. He’s lilting to one side like a tent that’s missing a pole and he’s pale, even for Remus. 

“You’re up,” says Harry. 

“Such as it is.” 

Harry jumps up and goes to him. Remus seems about to reject the help to a seat in the living room, but clearly thinks better of it. His arm is thin but solid under Harry’s hand as he leads him to the sofa. 

“You haven’t gone home.” Remus says. 

Harry laughs. “Now that we’ve both stated the obvious. No. I haven’t. Didn’t fancy leaving you, didn’t fancy intruding on the Weasleys, didn’t fancy rattling around Grimmauld Place with Kreacher skulking in the corners.” What he doesn’t say is that he can’t imagine closing his eyes, can’t imagine sleeping anywhere but on Remus’ sofa. 

“I see your point.” Remus leans back on the sofa and sighs. “I reckon I’ve rested enough. I reckon it’s time to get on with life, and get ready to bring Teddy home.” 

“Aren’t you...don’t you need to,” Harry stutters. He doesn’t know how to ask. He’s not good at loss, he knows that, but he can’t imagine that Remus doesn’t need to cry and rage and spend some time being utterly insufferable before he’s ready to _get on with life_.

Remus’ laugh is dry. “I’m going to be okay, Harry. It seems that no matter how hard life tries, I always am. I’ve become fairly adept at coping with grief. I’ll do it in my own way and in the meantime, it doesn’t help to pretend I’m more ill than I am. Dora and I always knew one or both of us might not make it through this. I’m just sorry it wasn’t me who didn’t.”

“I honestly don’t know what’s the saddest part of what you just said,” says Harry, biting back what he knows would be a totally inappropriate and selfish comment that, while he’s devastated at the loss of Tonks, he’s _not sorry_ it was Remus who made it. 

“I’m a realist and I know the process,” Remus says. He looks away and says, “The only thing I can’t imagine yet is how I am going to look Teddy in the face, knowing I didn’t protect his mum.” 

The protests that so many died, that Tonks was an Auror, that there was nothing he could possibly have done all die before they reach Harry’s lips. That feeling right there, that’s one Harry knows, so he simply reaches out and covers Remus’ hand with his.

**********

Remus gets stronger every day, if that’s evidenced by the decrease in naps and the increase in how much he eats.

Andromeda brings Teddy by for short visits every day. He’s grown so much in the time since the Battle of Hogwarts, and he is a constant reminder that the earth keeps turning. The first time he holds the baby, Remus cries, and Harry is strongly reminded that the only other time he’s seen Remus cry is when Sirius died, and then only once. 

After a week, Andromeda brings Teddy back to stay.

"Go home, Harry,” Remus says. He doesn’t look Harry in the eye as he says it, so Harry can’t really believe he means it. “Go and have a drink with your friends. This,” he says, gesturing at the room, himself, Teddy, “isn’t good for you.” 

“Maybe later,” says Harry, gathering up baby clothes for washing. There’s always something to do here, and Remus can say what he wants. He’s not strong enough to do all this on his own. 

*

It's late by the time Remus convinces Harry to go home. Harry's not certain why it’s so important to Remus that he leave, and he’s a bit put out by it. He's sure that Remus thinks this is what's best for him, but he can't for the life of him figure out why. 

Harry stands at the front of Grimmauld Place, the temporarily visible steps and doorway expanding and contracting as if they are waiting for him to make up his mind. 

Get on with it. 

Everyone wants him to _get on with it_. He should, he tells himself, go inside and check on Kreacher and start to make plans to make the place into somewhere he wants to be for an afternoon, much less live. He pictures the dark hallways, the screeching portrait, the creaks and moans, Regulus and Sirius’ bedrooms and all of the ghosts and memories and he can’t do it. Not after Remus’ warm little house that’s littered with baby toys and has comfortable, worn furniture, and light, and Remus.

He’s on the back steps of The Burrow before he’s even realises he’s Apparated. He can see Molly through the kitchen window. He hears a clanking sound from Arthur’s shed. He’s never heard The Burrow so quiet. He knocks. 

“Harry, dear,” says Molly, opening the door and pulling Harry into the chaotic, wonderful, loving embrace of the place. “The children, well they’re not really children, are they? They're all out. They gone to Luna’s. I’m sure you could catch them up.” 

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay here.” 

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here.” Molly gives him a concerned little smile. “Are you all right, Harry? I know you’ve been with Remus and Teddy day and night. That must be…”

“It’s good,” says Harry quickly. “I mean, I don’t mind it. Teddy’s my Godson.” 

“That’s right. It’s good of you.” Molly regards him thoughtfully and changes the subject to where he’ll sleep. Harry is immensely grateful for her decades of experience listening at this kitchen table. "Well, you look completely knackered. Charlie and Bill's old room is empty. Why don't you go and get some sleep before that lot gets back." 

*

_Professor Lupin's classroom is flooded with late afternoon light. Harry leans against the desk, rolling a beautiful silver ball in his palm. The ball is a bit larger than a snitch and it's warm in his hand. His finger traces the engraving that circles it. He can't read the runes._

_"Your mother gave me that."_

_The smooth, resonant voice makes Harry shiver. Professor Lupin takes the sphere from his hand and his fingers brush Harry's palm as he does._

_"What does it say?" Harry asks. He looks at Professor Lupin and is surprised to find that he's not looking up._

_Professor Lupin just smiles that warm smile that makes his eyes twinkle – the smile that lights his whole face and that Harry had only seen when Sirius talked about a moment from their past, Tonks did something silly, or Teddy did anything at all. Harry feels warm and languid under the impact of that smile._

_Harry turns and the room shifts. They’re in Sirius' bedroom in Grimmauld Place. Remus is closer and he wraps Harry in his arms. It feels as if he's touching Harry everywhere at once. Harry rolls his body against Remus, and it is Remus now, it's them…now. Harry presses his lips to Remus' and Remus' tongue sweeps inside Harry's mouth and Harry feels as if he's going to burst and..._

"Oh god," groans Harry. He comes awake as his hips jerk against the sheets. Sticky, sated, and breathless, flops onto his back. His heart pounds and he spares a second to hope that he didn't make enough noise that all of The Burrow heard him. 

“Right,” he says aloud to the empty room. “That’s not really a surprise, is it?” 

He grabs his watch from the bedside table. It’s one in the morning. He’s been asleep for just over an hour. He cleans the bed with a charm and turns on his side to watch the window for the first signs of dawn.

**********

Harry approaches Remus’ house. He stands at the door. He’s missed him, and he’s missed Teddy. It’s already much later in the day than he intended to come back, but he got caught up at The Burrow and with Ron and Hermione, and although he realised he’s missed them, he couldn’t help wanting to be back here.

And then, every time he pictured facing Remus, he thought about that dream. Hermione asked him three times if he was falling ill, concerned about the redness in his cheeks. 

A crash from inside pulls him away from his ruminating and he’s in the door and to the kitchen in a second. 

Remus is sitting on a kitchen chair, Teddy in his high chair. Remus has green, gooey globs all over his face, his hair, and down his robe. Teddy is scowling. A bowl is shattered on the floor. 

“Teddy, it would seem, is not fond of peas,” says Remus. 

Harry starts laughing, and Remus joins him, and any awkwardness he felt disappears in the face of Remus’ warm laugh and the ridiculous, green-spattered mess. Teddy looks back and forth between them and a single-toothed grin splits his face. He starts to laugh and smack his chubby little hands down in the mess on his tray, more green globs of smashed peas flying into the air. One flies up and hits Teddy between the eyes and another shoots at an angle and hits Harry in the chest. 

“Oi,” Harry shouts, jumping back. 

Teddy and Remus double over laughing. 

“Good one,” Remus says to Teddy when he catches his breath. “No reason Harry should be the only one not covered in peas.” 

“Why are there so many?” asks Harry. 

“I wasn’t sure how much he’d eat,” says Remus, and they all start laughing again. 

“Less, I’d say. Definitely less,” Harry says. 

“I think we’ve just taught him to have food fights,” says Remus. “Not my finest parenting moment.”

“Mine either,” says Harry, before his brain can catch up with his mouth.

Remus gives him an odd look — a little sad and a little confused. Harry feels himself flush. 

“Let’s get you — and me — cleaned up,” says Remus, lifting a squirming Teddy from his chair. As he passes, he waves his hand over Harry’s chest and Harry’s shirt is clean again. 

Harry stands in the kitchen alone, a warm feeling on his skin where Remus’ charm touched him, and thinks that he might be in a bit of trouble. 

“No reason worrying about anything else, when the kitchen’s covered in peas,” he says, beginning to clear up the mess.

*

Remus comes back into the kitchen, hair damp and smelling of the same soap they use on Teddy. The idea, the image, of Remus holding Teddy against his bare chest as he bathes them both makes Harry’s heart feel tender and full. He breathes in the scent and an entirely different sort of image, of him taking a shower with Remus, comes into his head. 

He turns back to the stove where he’s warming a casserole that Molly sent and wills his body to ignore his brain. 

“His adventure with peas must have exhausted him. He fell asleep while I was putting on his pyjamas.” says Remus. “Thanks for making dinner.” 

“Well, I reckoned we didn’t want peas,” says Harry. 

Remus chuckles softly. Harry can feel him come close behind him. The soft smell of the soap surrounds him. “Harry,” says Remus. His voice is quiet and firm. 

“I’m sorry about before, when I said, about — I know you’re Teddy’s father,” Harry blurts. “I wasn’t implying —”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” says Remus. “Can you look at me?” Harry’s not sure he can. He does anyway and Remus’ kind, concerned expression nearly undoes him. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of your help, but I’m afraid I’m taking advantage at this point.”

“Taking advantage?” Harry asks, and he hates the high, squeaky tone of his voice. 

“Because I don’t want to be alone, because it’s easier not to think about everything that’s happened,” says Remus. Harry starts to turn away. He can’t hear that he’s been nothing but a crutch when he’d started to think Remus saw him as more than that. “Harry, because I _like_ having you here, whether it’s good for you or not.” 

Harry can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. “Can I stay tonight at least?” Harry asks. “If it’s no bother, I mean. I can’t sleep at Grimmauld Place yet, and I don’t want to see everyone at The Burrow right away.” He doesn’t tell him that the only time he’s slept for more than an hour at a time since the Battle of Hogwarts is on Remus’ sofa. 

“I don’t see how I could say no to that,” says Remus, sounding half-reluctant and half-relieved. “After all, you’ve been assaulted by peas and now you’re making me dinner. It wouldn't do to kick you out.” 

*

Teddy’s cry yanks Harry from sleep. He spares a moment to appreciate Andromeda once again for doing this for nearly six months by herself. He swings his feet to the floor and stumbles out into the hallway. A dim light is coming from Teddy’s room. Harry moves quietly toward the light. He hears the rumble of Remus’ voice as he murmurs to Teddy. 

“He all right?” Harry whispers.

“Fine, just a bit fussy,” says Remus, in the same sing-song murmur. He strokes Teddy’s soft hair back from his forehead. Remus shifts a bit and pats the cushion next to him on the small sofa moved to Teddy’s room for just this purpose.

Harry sinks into the soft sofa and lets the sound of Remus’ voice and Teddy’s ever-deeper breathing and the warm glow of the lamp relax him to the point he could almost fall asleep sitting here. He imagines leaning over and resting his head on Remus’ shoulder. 

“Do you think you’ll ever want to marry again?” Harry asks, because he never did know when to shut up, he thinks. 

Remus looks at him and then back at Teddy. “I doubt it. I haven’t had the best of luck,” Remus says. He pauses and laughs without smiling. “Change that. I seem to have been back luck for the people I’ve loved.” 

“Tonks and Sirius?” Harry asks, because Remus doesn’t seem to mind Harry’s inappropriate questions. He never has, thinking back on it. 

“You knew about Sirius?” Remus asks slowly. He seems to hold Teddy tighter and the baby makes a small sound like he might wake again.

Harry whispers, “He told me.” 

“Of course he did.” Remus shakes his head, with an expression of fond irritation that Harry hasn’t seen on his face since Sirius died. 

"And then you were with Tonks,” Harry says. 

“Yes,” says Remus. “That took me a bit by surprise.” 

“Right,” says Harry. “Why, exactly? I mean, what about…her took you by surprise?”

Remus laughs. “You’re about as subtle as your dad.” 

“Did you know before her that you, uh, liked both?” 

Remus smiles kindly and Harry hates, _hates_ that he feels like a kid. The last thing he wants Remus to see him as is a silly kid. “Are you asking me something or telling me something, Harry?”

"Both?" 

Remus laughs quietly again and Teddy stirs. “Well, I’m happy to either answer or listen when you figure it out.”

“Okay,” says Harry, deciding that now is a perfect time to drop it.

**********

After two weeks of going back and forth – sleeping fitfully at The Burrow one night and soundly at Remus’ the next – Harry decides he should just admit what’s happening, unpack his things at Remus’, and take up permanent residence on his sofa. Remus is getting stronger, gaining weight, and looking better every day but, Harry tells himself, Remus still needs help. He studiously ignores the traitorous part of his brain that keeps trying to tell him that his insertion into what’s left of this little family is a bit like what happened with the Mirror of Erised. The more he looks, the harder it is to turn away.

He knocks softly on Remus’ door, every intention of asking Remus if he can just stay, and pushes open the door without waiting for an answer. It’s Teddy’s nap time and Remus will probably be taking the opportunity to take a shower or eat a sandwich without having to jump up between every bite.

Remus isn’t in the shower, nor is he eating an uninterrupted sandwich. Remus is lying on the floor, snoring softly. He looks as if he fell off the sofa and he has Teddy’s favorite stuffed dog on his chest. Teddy, who is sitting up on the sofa and trying to insert his entire foot into his mouth, makes a delighted, sleepy sound when he sees Harry.

“I won’t ask what you did to your dad, mate,” says Harry. Teddy reaches out for him and Harry feels his heart triple in size. He gathers the little boy into his arms and Teddy’s head immediately falls onto his shoulder. His soft, sleepy baby smell fills Harry’s senses.

Harry grabs the blanket from the back of the sofa and slips down onto the floor next to Remus. He pulls the blanket over Remus and when he hears a tiny snore in his ear from Teddy’s rosebud mouth, he pulls on the corner of the blanket, covering the three of them. He can feel Remus’ hair against his hand and he lets his own eyes drift shut.

*

“Hey,” Remus says. Harry feels the warm, solid weight of Teddy lifted from his chest. “Feels like I was Obliviated. I don’t think I’ve slept that soundly for weeks, and I don’t think that I was on the floor or that you were here when I went to sleep.” 

Harry rights his glasses and rubs his hand over his face. Remus is sitting next to him on the floor. Teddy is cradled in his lap, apparently trying to pull the ears off his floppy stuffed dog. 

“Poor dog,” says Harry. Teddy looks at him and flashes him a huge grin and goes back to trying to dismember his favourite toy. 

Remus rubs Teddy’s back and turns his head to look at Harry. “Soon after you were born, I remember watching your dad hold you and thinking that I’d never have that. I was all right with it, just a bit sad. Now, I can’t imagine not having him around.” 

“You never thought you’d be a dad?” Harry asks. He always used to love hearing Remus’ stories about when he was a baby, and his parents and Sirius, but now, hearing about Remus watching him as a baby is _not_ the image he wants in either of their heads. “You’re so good with kids – you were at school and you’re brilliant with Teddy.” 

“Thanks, Harry,” Remus says. He leans his cheek to rest it against Teddy’s hair and gets walloped in the nose with Floppy Dog for his trouble. He laughs and gently pushes the battered creature away. Teddy give a squawk that sounds suspiciously like _woof_. “But no, I never thought I would have kids – first, I was a werewolf and second, I planned to stay with Sirius as long as he’d have me.”

“Oh,” says Harry. He feels like an idiot. 

“Did you want to ask or answer the question you started yesterday?” Remus says. His voice comes out in an odd little staccato because because he’s bouncing Teddy on his knee. Teddy makes a sound between a laugh and a hum, in the same rhythm as Remus. 

“I think I’ve it sorted,” Harry says. He leans a bit closer to Remus so his arm presses against Remus’ arm. 

Remus stops bouncing Teddy and turns to look at Harry. Harry feels Remus’ warm gaze like an embrace. He couldn’t look away if he wanted to. 

“Oh,” says Remus softly, not looking away. “Well, that’s good then.” He hasn’t moved away, either. His arm is warm against Harry’s. 

“Yeah,” says Harry. “I reckon it is.” 

He can picture himself leaning in to kiss Remus, to press his lips against his and trace Remus’ bottom lip with his tongue. He smiles at the thought and his heart races with the knowledge that he’ll do it soon, and would have just now if Teddy weren’t in Remus’ lap. 

Remus coughs. “Right, well, yes, then. I’ll just get Teddy in the bath.” He fairly jumps to his feet and takes Teddy down the hallway. Teddy’s giggling and swatting Remus on the back of the head with Floppy Dog all the way to the bathroom.

Harry leans back against the sofa and tries to make his pulse return to normal.

**********

“Don’t make a sound,” Remus whispers. “We have sleep, but I think it’s tentative.”

“Right,” whispers Harry. “Babies sleep a great deal, so why don’t adults who are caring for babies ever get to sleep?” 

“That is an excellent question.” 

Harry hands Remus a tumbler with a measure of Firewhisky in it. Their fingers touch as Remus takes the glass. Harry holds on for a moment, trying to prolong the contact. Remus pulls back and some of the amber liquid splashes over his hand. 

Remus gives him that look – that look that means he thinks they need to _talk_ and Remus will try and convince him that he’d be better off somewhere else. 

“I’m managing, Harry. I need you to know that. I’m sad about Dora, and everyone else. I am so sorry that Teddy won’t know his mum. That all seems the normal and right way to feel. I won’t crumble if you have somewhere else to be.” Remus pulls out a kitchen chair, carefully so that it doesn’t scrape against the floor. "Harry, it's Saturday evening. Wouldn’t you like to go ‘round the pub with your friends?” 

“If you don’t want me here –”

“It’s not that, Harry. It’s – don’t you want to get on with your life?” 

“I am getting on with my life.” 

The soft lines deepen around Remus’ eyes as he smiles. “Sitting in my kitchen on a Saturday night at half one in the morning, whispering so you don’t wake a baby hardly seems like getting on with it.” 

“What if it does to me?” Harry reaches out his hand and brushes the back of it against Remus’ cheek. His skin is cool and soft. 

“Ha—” Remus begins, but Harry doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to hear caution or reason or excuses. 

Harry turns his hand to curve around Remus’ jaw and leans in to kiss him. He presses his lips to Remus’ and Remus makes a small sound that sounds too much like protest, so Harry cups his face with both hands and kisses him harder. 

Harry nearly crows in triumph when he feels Remus’ mouth soften, gentle on his. Remus’ hand comes to wind into Harry’s hair and Remus kisses him back. 

Harry whimpers because he’s never kissed like this. He’s never kissed someone – been kissed by someone – who knew just how to take control, how to open Harry’s lips with a slip of the tongue and draw Harry’s tongue into his mouth. Harry’s entire body narrows to his lips and his tongue and the liquid heat feeling that’s coursing through his every nerve ending, until Remus pulls back, breaking the kiss. 

Remus looks grim and resigned – not the look Harry wants to see after he’s just had a kiss that obliterates every other kiss he’s ever had in his life. Remus touches his mouth, two fingers across his own lips, as if he’s still feeling the kiss. 

“What is the matter with me,” he asks, but it’s a statement, not a question.

Harry watches him, his body still thrumming from the kiss. Remus scrubs his hands through his hair. Harry’s stomach clenches at the thought that he is, right now, causing Remus distress when, God knows, the man has had quite enough of that. 

"Dora’s gone hardly a year, Teddy’s in the next room, I don’t think your parents and Sirius would think much of my current behavior, me being the closest thing you have left to a father,” says Remus, and talking when he’s clenching his teeth like that is quite and accomplishment. 

“Arthur’s the closest thing I have to a father. You are something else entirely.” 

Remus makes a sound between a cough and a laugh and his jaw relaxes a little bit. “I must say I’m glad to hear that.”

“Tonks wouldn’t want you to be miserable,” says Harry, feeling quite confident that he must be right. “She chose me to be Teddy’s Godfather, too.”

 

“I _know_ this wasn’t the arrangement she had in mind,” says Remus. He puts his elbow on the kitchen table and rests his forehead in the palm of his hand. He takes a deep breath and raises his head. He puts his chin in his hand and Harry is dreading what he’s about to say, but the way he looks, charming and torn, makes Harry ache to kiss him again. “We’ve talked about my luck – or rather, transferral of bad luck of a fatal nature to anyone who lets me too close. I am as old as your father, I am dangerous, and I have nothing to offer you. I should have my head examined.” 

“I reckon it’s too late for you to worry about me getting too close. I don’t care how old you are. Word has it I’m pretty hard to kill, and I will be the judge of whether or not you have something to offer me.” 

“Perhaps you should have your head examined,” says Remus and Harry laughs, because if Remus is teasing him, he’s not angry. 

“Sirius did tell me that you’ve always had a bit of a knack for denying yourself what you want.” 

“He did, did he?” Remus rolls his eyes and it makes Harry want to kiss him even more. “Well, Sirius would know.” 

"Then why keep doing it?” Harry says, working very hard to keep any hint of a childish whinge from his voice.

“I need to think, Harry. Maybe Sirius was right,” says Remus. He runs his fingers through his hair, down the back of his head, and curls his hand around his neck, squeezing as if to work out knots. “The thing is – I don’t get involved lightly. I’ve never been able to do that. And I would never take you lightly. So, this is more than mucking about to me.” 

“It is for me as well.” 

Remus leans in and kisses Harry lightly on the lips. Harry wants to push it, take the kiss deeper, get more of that spine-tingling feeling he had before. Something tells him to pause and feel the gentleness of this kiss. Something tells him that Remus needs to know he can listen. 

"Let's wait. Think. You go to The Burrow to sleep, just to give us some breathing room." Harry starts to object and Remus holds up one hand. "We'll still see each other and you can come round in the day. If, after a bit, you still feel this way, then we'll talk." 

“I already know how I feel,” says Harry, “but I can wait for you.”

**********

Remus had insisted that Harry couldn’t help him, that there was no safe way. He also insisted that knowing that Harry had Teddy somewhere safe would help him more than having to worry that Harry would do something stupid. So, Harry followed instructions and took Teddy to Andromeda’s and spent a sleepless night tossing and turning in Tonks’ childhood bedroom.

Remus can insist that Harry stay away overnight, but the soft light of dawn is creeping into windows and signaling the new day, and Harry has kept his promise. 

Harry is at Remus’ in moments. The door swings open to his touch. He knows now where he’ll find Remus, after months of checking on him. Harry goes first to the kitchen and makes a pot of tea. When he has tea and milk and sugar on a tray, he walks as quietly as he can to the spare room. Remus doesn’t like to wake in his own bed the morning after a transformation, something he confided in Harry two months ago. 

Remus is sound asleep on the narrow bed. He has extra pillows propped around him and, Harry notices with a speeding of his pulse, that he has pulled the soft blanket Harry’s been using when he sleeps here over himself. 

Harry sits on the floor next to Remus, near his head. He looks younger when he’s asleep, even after a rough night, and Harry imagines he can see the boy that his parents and Sirius knew. He’s reminded again that Remus, like himself, was never carefree. His hand raises, seemingly without his permission, to stroke back Remus’ hair. The silver at the temples makes the rest seem a richer, chestnut-brown. 

Remus’ eyes flutter open and he mutters, “Where’s Teddy?”

“Andromeda's. Still sleeping.” 

Remus is pliant and warm, so deeply asleep that the soreness that will come hasn’t hit yet. His face is right next to Harry’s and his lips are parted as he breathes gently. Harry can still feel the kiss from the other day when he closes his eyes. He has been good. He has done what he’s been asked and he’s been thinking and thinking, and sometimes all he can think about is that kiss. 

He presses his lips to Remus’. Remus sighs and his lips move on Harry’s. Harry makes a soft sound when he teases into Remus’ mouth with his tongue and Remus lets him. He curls his hand around Remus’ bicep and over his back. He’s already hard and Remus’ mouth is warm and open and Harry starts to move so he can climb onto the sofa with Remus. 

Remus moans and the sound makes Harry’s cock throb. Remus pulls back, his eyes are half-closed and he puts a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder. 

“No, not like this. Not again,” Remus mutters, still half asleep. “Please, not like this.” 

The pleading in Remus’ tone is so sincere that Harry is pulled immediately from his desire-soaked haze. He sinks back to the floor and presses his hand against his cock, breathing slowly. 

Remus falls back into a deep sleep and Harry goes to make some tea. 

*

Remus wakes in time for lunch. His first question is about Teddy. His second is, “Harry, what did you – did we do, earlier? Tell me.” 

Harry’s cheeks burn. “I’m sorry Remus,” he says quickly and Remus looks stricken. “I shouldn’t have. I kissed you and I’m sorry.”

“Just kissed?” Remus asks, his tense expression relaxing. 

“Yeah, just kissed,” says Harry, although in his book, _just kissed_ is not an adequate description. “You said, ‘Not again.’ What did you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

"Tell me," says Harry. “Please.”

Remus sighs, “The night after a full moon night, when we were sixteen – that’s how Sirius and I – as I said before, I need to be clear-headed with you.”

This is important to Remus and Harry can see he’s not going to get what he wants by pushing him. That does not, however, mean he’s going away.

**********

Remus sips his wine. His strong hand cradles the glass and Harry wants to lick between his fingers.

The meal Remus made is delicious — roast chicken and potatoes, golden-brown and crispy. Remus is a neat eater and Harry finds he loves watching the way his lips part to take a bite and the way he holds his fork. Harry’s aware of Remus’ legs under the table, not so far that Harry couldn’t stretch out and run his foot up Remus’ calf. 

Harry takes a sip of his butterbeer. His resistance is down. He hasn’t more than dozed since he spent the night here four nights ago, and if he doesn’t get a grip on himself, he’s going to lunge across the table and jump Remus. Teddy is spending the night with Andromeda, so there’s nothing to rein him in except his own self-control, which is paper-thin. 

“Harry,” Remus says, and Harry realises he must have been asking him something. 

“What?” asks Harry. His stomach does a little flip as he looks up into Remus’ eyes. 

“Harry, what are we doing?” Remus asks, pushing back his now empty plate. 

“Having dinner,” says Harry, for lack of a better answer. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I think we need to talk.”

“Well, I think you should stop punishing yourself and let me kiss you,” blurts Harry. Remus blinks at him and Harry takes another gulp of his drink. He really needs to get some sleep. “What I mean to say is, if I have learned one thing from all of this, it’s that you don’t know what’s going to happen, so you should show people how you feel today, because there might not be a tomorrow.”

“I don’t know whether to be sad that you know that at your age or chastened that the implication is that I don’t.” 

“I’d rather you show me how you feel about me,” says Harry, reaching for his drink once more. 

Remus laughs and Harry decides to just go with it and let his mouth do what it will. “The thing is, Harry, I feel several ways about you. Your father and godfather were my best friends it’s not that long since I’ve lost the only two people I’ve ever let myself love, in alarmingly rapid succession, and I can’t help but think what Sirius might do to me if he were here.” 

“I think Sirius would want you to be happy.”

“I am not so certain he would approve of what I would like to do in order to make myself happy.” 

“I’d like to hear what you’d like to do.” 

“Let me finish,” Remus says gently. “This is hard enough.” 

Harry bites his bottom lip, afraid for the first time that while Remus has been doing his thinking, he’s come to the conclusion that Harry is a fit but silly kid. 

Remus looks Harry in the eye, pinning him with his gaze. “I can’t stop thinking about you. God help me, I can’t stop wanting you. I know I shouldn’t, for so many reasons, and I can’t imagine what any number of people would say if they knew what I keep thinking about doing to you, but there we are.” 

“You still haven’t told me what you want to do to me,” says Harry, his heart soaring and his pulse racing.

Remus laughs and takes another sip of his wine. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“So I’ve been told,” says Harry. 

He stands and moves around the table to Remus. Remus pushes his chair back from the table, leaving enough space for Harry to slip between him and the table, and doesn’t say a word. Harry figures that’s as much of an invitation as he’s going to get. He places his hands on the back of the chair, on either side of Remus head. He stops, looking into Remus eyes, almost daring him to stop him. Remus eyes flicker to Harry’s lips and he warms inside because this is what he’s been waiting for. 

Harry leans down and Remus leans up and Harry has to grip the back of the chair hard to stop from slipping into Remus’ lap. The kiss is as all-consuming as the first two. Remus’ hand is on the back of Harry’s head, holding him in place this time – not pushing him away. Remus arches his neck pressing into the kiss and pulling on Harry, sucking his tongue into his mouth. 

“Yes,” Harry murmurs into the kiss, because Remus isn’t being careful anymore, because this is exactly what he wanted, because Remus’ hand is smoothing down his back, pulling him closer.

Harry moves to straddle Remus on the chair. Remus’ pulls back from the kiss and Harry panics for the less than half a second it takes Remus to move his mouth to Harry’s jaw, kissing along until he reaches Harry’s ear. 

“Sit,” whispers Remus, urging Harry to sit astride his thighs. 

Harry can feel himself start to tremble. He’s so hard and the pressure of his trousers on his cock is too much and not enough at the same time. 

Remus' hands frame his face and Remus pulls back again, looking Harry in the eye. "Yes?” Remus asks. 

“God, yes,” says Harry. “Please.” 

Remus makes a sound deep in his throat and he didn’t actually growl, Harry tells himself, although the thought seems to travel straight to his cock. 

Remus presses his lips to Harry’s and slips his tongue past Harry’s lips, swirling it around Harry’s, and it’s all Harry can do to hold on. Remus works open his shirt and Remus’ hand is warm against his skin. 

He trails his hand down to Harry’s trousers and pulls them open. Harry moans when Remus’ hand presses against his cock. 

“So lovely, Harry,” says Remus as he works the thin cotton of Harry’s pants back and forth over the slippery head of his cock. 

The friction and pressure is driving Harry mad. He doesn’t want to come in his pants, but he is so close. “Please, please touch me,” he pleads.

“Yes,” moans Remus. He slips his hand into Harry’s pants and pulls his cock free. Harry digs his fingers into Remus’ shoulders at the first stroke of Remus’ hand on his cock. “Watch,” says Remus.

Harry holds tighter to Remus and looks down. His cock is hard and dark and Remus’ strong hand is moving on it, up and down. He’s never seen someone else’s hand on his cock before and the sight nearly sends him over. 

“Oh god,” he moans. “Don’t stop.” 

“So gorgeous,” breathes Remus. He’s watching, too, watching as Harry’s cock becomes slicker and slicker and harder and Remus works it with his expert hand. 

“Kiss me,” says Harry, and Remus’ mouth is on his again. He slides his tongue in and out of Harry’s mouth in time with the strokes of his hand. 

Remus moans into Harry’s mouth and strokes harder, silently urging him to come. He couldn’t stop now, no matter what happened and he gasps, open-mouthed against Remus’ lips as he feels his balls contract and his cock pulse. Remus keeps stroking as Harry shivers and rides out the last of his orgasm, knowing exactly when to still his hand and just squeeze gently.

“That was, oh god,” pants Harry. “Thank you.” 

Remus smiles and kisses Harry tenderly. “You are most welcome,” he says. 

Harry grinds his hips down against Remus’ lap. His cock is hard as a rock against Harry’s arse. “Let me. For you,” says Harry, rolling his hips and relishing the feeling of Remus starting to rock against him. 

“Not here,” says Remus. “In bed. Now that we’ve finally got here, I need to take my time with you.”

He pushes Harry from his lap and takes his hand. Harry follows, heart beating hard against his chest and desire already stirring again, deep in his belly. 

Remus tumbles him onto the bed. He’s been in this room a thousand times, but always with Teddy. It’s different and wonderful and perfect to be on the soft bed that smells of Remus, to have Remus lowering himself onto Harry’s body. Harry arches against Remus, knowing he’ll be hard again in a moment. Remus has opened his robe and loosened his clothes at some point and Harry shivers at the feeling of skin against skin. Remus’ cock slides between his thighs, nudging his balls and Harry’s properly hard again now.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” moans Remus, rocking his hips against Harry, into Harry. 

Harry bends his knees to give Remus more space, a better angle. He lets his hands roam over Remus, waiting for the moment when he can feel Remus come. “Yes,” he hisses Remus’ muscles tighten under Harry’s hands and his movements become less smooth. “Yes,” he says again when Remus gasps his name, breath hot in his ear, and Harry feels the wet heat of Remus’ come between his legs. 

“Oh, Harry,” groans Remus, kissing him again. Remus strokes Harry’s face and his chest. He tickles his fingers over Harry’s stomach and, when his hand reaches Harry’s hard cock, he says, “I remember what it was like to be this young,” laughing fondly against Harry’s neck. He grins at Harry, and Harry has the distinct feeling he’s about to be devoured. “And now,” says Remus, “I take my time.” 

Harry yields, lets everything else fall away, and trembles as Remus begins to take him apart piece by piece. 

*

Harry wakes when the light hits his eyes. He blinks them open and stretches. A warm body presses against him from behind and a heavy arm is slung across his waist. He breathes deeply, decides to let himself revel in a feeling of being exactly where he should be that is unrivaled by any other feeling he’s ever had. 

He shifts his weight so that he leans harder against Remus and can feel Remus’ body against his back, arse, thighs, and knees. Remus’ breathing changes and he nuzzles Harry’s neck, seems to inhale the scent of his hair. 

“Mm, you’re here,” Remus murmurs. He tightens his arm around Harry and his breathing slows again and Harry feels him relax, sink back into the bed.

Harry drifts into the feeling of contentment and let’s himself replay every moment of last night while Remus sleeps peacefully behind him. He can still feel Remus’ lips on his skin, as he had kissed every inch of Harry’s body. He can still feel his lips on Remus’ skin. Remus had shown Harry how to lick and touch him until he was trembling and pleading, with Harry’s mouth on his neck and hand on his cock, and he promised that soon, he would shown Harry how it felt to be inside him. Harry had come again at the suggestion and the pressure of his cock against Remus’ thigh, making Remus laugh and say again that he remembered being that young. 

Remus’ hand moves, down Harry’s stomach, his abdomen, and to his cock. “Interesting day dream,” comes the sleepy voice as he cups his hand around Harry’s erection. 

Harry presses back against Remus’ body and says, “Just thinking that last night, you promised me something. I intend to collect.” 

Remus turns onto his back and stretches. He looks more relaxed, younger, than Harry’s seen him, and Harry can’t help but think that sex certainly agrees with him. 

“Do you?” Remus asks. “Right, turn on your front. I want to show you something.” 

“All right,” says Harry slowly as he turns over to lie on his stomach. “But what –” 

“Shh,” says Remus. He runs his hand down Harry’s back, over his arse and thighs, and Harry feels goosebumps rise on his skin. “I said I want to show you something.” 

Any other questions die in Harry’s throat as Remus’ warm, soft mouth is suddenly on his skin. He kisses Harry’s shoulders and back, his hand continuing to run up and down from Harry’s thighs to his arse to his back. Remus’ tongue traces the line of his spine. Harry rolls his hips into the bed, feeling his cock pressing into the mattress. 

“Remus,” groans Harry when he feels Remus’ lips on his arse, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. 

“Okay, Harry?” Remus asks. His fingers trace along Harry’s arse again, dipping between his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” says Harry. His muscles are turning to liquid. “Anything.” 

“No, always tell me what you want,” murmurs Remus. “Can I taste you?”

 _Yes_ is the only word Harry can remember, so that’s what he says, and it comes out a long, low gasp. His gasp turns to a groan when Remus’ tongue follows his fingers, leaving a burning trail from the base of his spine to his balls. Harry presses his open mouth to the sheets and curls his hands into fists as Remus licks back up and swipes his tongue over Harry’s hole.

Harry can’t breathe. He can’t think. All he can do is feel the warm, wet pressure of Remus’ tongue on him. Remus makes little humming noises that vibrate up Harry’s spine. The tongue circles and presses and Remus’ hands caress Harry’s arse and hips. Remus moans and Harry feels his body open to him. Harry rocks his hips between the bed and Remus and he’s going to come. 

“Please, I, fuck,” babbles Harry. He’s about to beg Remus to do _something_ , more, anything, when Remus pulls back and cool air hits Harry’s over-stimulated body. 

Remus slides up Harry’s body, touching him everywhere as he goes. His mouth is at Harry’s ear. He can feel the lips move on the shell. “That’s how it feels when you’re ready to be fucked. Are you ready to make me feel like that?” 

“Please,” Harry gasps, turning over to face Remus. 

“Here,” Remus says, putting a tube into Harry’s hand. Remus is hard and flushed and Harry feels a rush that he’s responsible for making this collected, strong, stoic man look desperate and debauched. “Now, Harry. Slick your fingers and put them inside me.” The words are almost clinical, but the roughness and grit in Remus’ voice is positively filthy. 

“I do have some idea,” says Harry, moving slowly and enjoying this first-ever thrill of power at making a lover wait. 

“Get on with it. Start with one,” says Remus. He’s on his back and he pulls Harry to him, on top of him, and into a fierce kiss. 

Harry slips his fingers down and circles, pushing the tip of his finger inside Remus. Remus leans back, breaking the kiss so he can bite his lip. Harry’s learned since last night that he loves to watch Remus get turned on. He slows his finger even as Remus tries to lean back. 

“Two,” Remus says. 

Harry watches his face as he adds a finger and moves them in and out of Remus’ body. Remus’ cheeks turn pink and his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“Faster,” says Remus. “You can move faster and when it feels easy, add another.” 

“I never knew you liked to talk so much,” Harry says, moving his fingers more slowly. 

“I imagine you’re learning all kinds of things about me,” says Remus. “Fuck, Harry,” he groans and he shifts, dislodging Harry’s fingers as he moves to his hands and knees. “It will be easiest for you for the first time this way. No more teasing – this time.” 

Harry slicks his cock. He's suddenly hit by nerves born of a desperate desire to please Remus. 

Remus looks over his shoulder, somehow managing a kind and patient expression despite his position. “You can’t do this wrong. Come on. Fuck me, Harry.” 

It’s encouragement and a challenge in one and he presses the head of his cock to Remus’ entrance. Remus inhales and presses back and Harry looks down in amazement as Remus’ body stretches to let him in and the head of his cock disappears into the tight ring of muscle.

Remus’ body is around his and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt. He can’t look away from where they’re joined. He moves just a little, watching his cock slide in and out of Remus. The friction is like fire and Harry curls his toes, fighting for some control so he doesn’t thrust and come right now. 

Remus pushes back to meet him and Harry tries rolling his hips so he can feel every inch of his cock inside Remus. “Fuck, harder, Harry,” groans Remus. 

“I can’t – for long,” Harry grinds out between gritted teeth. 

“You can’t do this wrong,” Remus repeats and Harry lets go. 

He pulls back until he feels like his cock will slip out of Remus and then pushes back in. Remus rocks back to meet him. No matter how hard he thrusts, Remus meets him. He can’t understand how Remus can seem so open to him and so tight at the same time. He hears a roaring in his ears and feels his orgasm around the corner, right there. He leans over, covering Remus with his body, changing the angle. He’s going deeper now and something’s changed for Remus because he’s making sharp, desperate sounds.

“Right there, harder, so good,” Remus says, gasping between each word.

Harry can’t speak. He’s coming deep inside Remus and he wants this moment to last forever, this oblivion where only the two of them exist. He pushes deep inside and freezes as the last tremors leave him. 

His cheek is against Remus’ back and Remus is panting. “Sorry. You didn't…” Harry starts. He wanted to please Remus and he lost control. 

“Perfect,” Remus says. His body shifts and Harry can see his hand moving under his body. “Stay, just, there. Yes,” Remus groans. 

Harry is still half-hard inside him and the feeling of Remus’ body moving as he strokes his own cock, and his arse tightening on Harry’s body, is almost too much. Just when Harry thinks he can’t take it anymore, Remus slumps to the bed beneath him, wrapping an arm around behind himself to rest on Harry’s hip. 

They lie there, just breathing. Harry doesn’t say anything. He listens to Remus’ breath and feels the rise and fall of his ribs under Harry’s cheek. His mind starts to race, to the last few weeks, and his life, and Remus and Teddy, and _getting on with it_. 

"The thing is, I can’t sleep when I’m not here,” Harry says, not meaning to speak aloud. 

Remus slides to the side and turns so he can gather Harry into his arms. Harry feels utterly safe. Remus kisses his hair, but doesn’t speak. 

“I want to be here for you,” says Harry quietly. 

Remus looks at him thoughtfully. “I seem to be lucky to have people in my life who keep teaching me things. Sirius taught me I didn’t always have to be alone. Tonks taught me there are people who will be strong along with me, and now, I think you’ve taught me that life keeps moving on, even when you think it can’t. I want to be here for you, too,” says Remus. “You’ve worn me down,” he adds, with a small smile. 

“Worn you down?” Harry squawks. “You didn’t seem to need much persuading a minute ago.” 

“Yes, well,” Remus says. “I’d love to be persuaded some more, but I think I just heard the Floo.” 

"Hellooo,” calls Andromeda from the front room, just as Remus finishes his sentence. “We’re back.”

Remus leaps out of bed, pulling on a dressing gown. “Be right there,” calls Remus. He turns and looks at Harry, tilting his head and smiling. “See if you can get some rest. We’ll be here.” 

Harry watches him go. He lets his head fall back onto the pillow that still smells of Remus, but maybe smells of bit of Harry. Remus’ and Andromeda’s voices drift into his consciousness, and he hears a shriek of laughter from Teddy, as he closes his eyes and sleeps.

**Author's Note:**

> Please show your appreciation for the author here, or on [LIVEJOURNAL](http://hp-crossgenfest.livejournal.com/29805.html)! ♥


End file.
